


Mr. al-Kaysani

by luna_sol



Series: The Musician and His CEO [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: (as a form of endearment), Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, BDSM, Begging, Bottom Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Dirty Talk, Dom Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Light Humiliation/Name-Calling, Lingerie, M/M, Office Sex, Orgasm Control, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Spanking, Sub Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Teasing, Throat Holding, Top Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:41:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29159070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna_sol/pseuds/luna_sol
Summary: “How did it feel, Mr. al-Kaysani? Having the eye of everyone in that meeting on you, paying attention to your every word - none the wiser as to what you’re wearing underneath,” Nicky’s lips curl in a smirk. One broad hand comes up to grip Joe’s throat and using it as a handle, Nicky brings Joe’s face closer to his own. He whispers his next words directly into Joe’s ear. “Not a single one of them knowing what a perfect little whore their CEO is.”--Nicky helps Joe wind down after an important meeting by bringing one of his oldest fantasies to life - office sex.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: The Musician and His CEO [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2140473
Comments: 37
Kudos: 126





	Mr. al-Kaysani

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silvermadi (Orientation)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orientation/gifts).



> For the lovely silvermadi who helped me transcribe most of an incomprehensible song from Dutch. Thank you, kindly <3  
> This fic definitely grew away from me but I hope you enjoy Joe in his harness and the throat grabbing. *blows kiss*

Joe tries his hardest not to scratch at his thighs during the presentation - he can’t come off as anything but calm and confident to the investors. He does, however, fidget slightly when he reaches the stopping point and ask if there are questions.

It also, unfortunately, draws the attention of Quỳnh in the back - who narrows her eyes at him dangerously. He’s tempted to roll his own in return if it wouldn’t make him look bad in front of the investors; he doesn’t need her to tell him how important this deal is, he knows. She assesses him and then smirks, looking away.

He isn’t so distracted by the questions volleyed at him, that he misses her taking out her phone and her fingers moving rapidly across the screen under the desk.

 _Fuck_. He’s been entirely too obvious.

He resists the urge to tap his fingers, or otherwise move restlessly, through the interminably long Q&A session, answering questions on autopilot. Joe is absolutely certain that most of this had already been explained in depth during his presentation, but he knows that people can be reluctant to part with their money for any reason.

Finally, he is shaking hands with the investors and thanking them as they head out. When the last of them is physically out the door and out of sight, Joe lets out a gusty breath and looks at the clock. Almost two in the afternoon, he has three more hours before he can leave - okay, two if he wants to play fast and loose with his own hours. Two more hours.

He turns to help his team clean up - and to encourage them to take the food home, no point in it going to waste. Free food, especially at work, tends to make staff happy and happy staff are productive staff. Not to mention, there is possibly enough food here to feed a small army - Quỳnh is always beyond prepared for anything that can come up. Joe has no doubts that if there are any leftovers, Quỳnh would have it donated to a shelter before the end of the day.

Speaking of the she-devil, Quỳnh’s face is a mixture of unholy glee and something that Joe doesn’t care to identify. _Especially_ not when it’s directed at himself and she hasn’t put her phone down in at least half an hour.

“Mr. al-Kaysani,” Quỳnh chirps in a sugary voice Joe knows to be wary of - it is the warning rattle before the viper strikes. “You don’t need to help out, your two o’clock is almost here. You should get ready.”

Joe looks at her in dubious consternation: there’s nothing on his schedule for the rest of the day, only paperwork he has to look over and possibly approve. He doesn’t want to take any appointments right now. Not to mention, there is something utterly suspicious about that last sentence - it’s not any different from what Quỳnh would normally say, but something about those four words unsettles him - probably her tone. 

“I don’t have - ”

Quỳnh smiles like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. “I’ve taken the liberty of adding them to your schedule, there was an availability.”

Joe is not about to argue with her in front of their staff (mostly because everyone knows who actually rules the office). “Noted. I’ll leave the clean up to all of you then, thanks.”

Joe walks out of the room, curious. For all that it’s Joe’s company, Quỳnh _does_ rule with an iron fist - she wouldn’t let just anyone into a meeting with him. And what does she mean by ‘get ready’?

His breath catches as he turns the final corner, he knows that silhouette very well. _Fuck_.

“Nicolò…”

Nicky turns to look at him; there’s a wicked gleam in his eyes though his expression stays neutral. “Mr. al-Kaysani, I hope I’m not intruding. Your personal aide said that there was an available time slot for me right now?”

 _Mr. al-Kaysani_ falling from those lips, soft-spoken and deferential. Joe has had fantasies that started like this and he barely manages to stop from sinking to his knees in the middle of the office. All his blood is rushing south, and he’s intimately reminded of what he has on underneath this suit. He’s going to kill Quỳnh. (Or buy her a new pair of heels. It's a toss up.)

“Yes, of course, come in.” If Joe’s voice is breathier than normal, no one else is close enough to actually hear. 

Nicky follows in right behind him, not so close as to be improper, but Joe can feel the warmth against his back. Nicky shuts the door behind him and Joe doesn’t stop the shudder that runs through his body when he hears the lock click into place. Thankfully the blinds are already drawn.

“If you say ‘no’, I will not do anything and just walk back out in ten minutes, pretend that we talked about whatever it is I’m pretending to be here for.”

Joe is positively vibrating in front of his desk. “And if I say ‘yes’?”

Joe doesn’t need to turn around to see the smile that overtakes Nicky’s face, sweet and hungry, but he sees it all the same once he rounds his desk. It is **devastating**.

“Then I’d ask you to drop your pants so I can see if you’re wearing what I picked out for you. And if you were good, we can test if your walls are as soundproof as you’re led to believe.”

There’s a crackling noise that tears out of Joe’s throat - he thinks distantly that a pod of dolphins might understand what he’s trying to articulate. His hands scrabble to open his pants and he fumbles with the inner button, fingers clumsy with lust and growing erection making itself known.

Nicky tsks as he walks closer. “Mr. al-Kaysani? Let me take your jacket for you. ”

Oh, suit jacket. Yes, that would have been the smart thing to take off first, but before he can worry about it, Nicky is already behind him. Joe stills, savouring the feeling of having Nicky so close. Pressed fully against his back, Nicolò is a solid line of heat that burns Joe. 

Joe shivers as Nicky's hands come around his front and undo the top button, skimming away the jacket from his torso with a feather-light touch. Nicky steps away to hang it up and Joe whines, cold and bereft. He’s going to be paying for dry-cleaning anyways, the jacket can get wrinkled. Nicky doesn’t have to _stop touching_ him!

Nicky chuckles as he steps up behind Joe again, huffing his amusement against Joe’s ear and dropping a quick kiss against the skin there in apology. His hands come to a rest on Joe’s hips and Joe’s brain blanks on what he was supposed to be doing, anticipation crawling up his spine.

Dipping lower than before, those large hands clasp around Joe’s wrists and draw his own slack hands away from where they’re uselessly clutching the front of his pants - having made no progress since Nicky first ordered him to take his pants off. Clever fingers unfasten the inner button and knuckles brush up against Joe’s erection as Nicky’s hands move towards the zipper.

The sound of his zipper being undone - tooth by fucking tooth because Nicky is a damned tease - is extraordinarily loud in the otherwise quiet office. One finger reaches through the newly opened slit and runs down Joe’s silk-covered erection and Joe chokes on his own spit. Before he can press into that small touch, Nicky is already taking a step back and letting go. Joe’s pants fall halfway down his thighs, revealing what he has been wearing all day. There’s a sucked-in hiss of breath behind him and Joe is fully ready to bend over his desk and start begging. 

“Don’t forget your shoes and socks too, Mr. al-Kaysani.” Nicky’s voice is hoarse, a definite sign that Joe’s state of dress is affecting him. But every repetition of his last name goes straight to his dick, where it’s tenting and stretching the flimsy garment horrifically. 

Joe takes in a breath and begins undressing himself again, toeing off his dress shoes and socks with some difficulty - better to leave scuff marks on his shoes than to try bending right now. Pants, shirt, tie - **everything** goes except for his present. He even folds them so Nicky won’t have reason to delay them further. _There_ , now there’s nothing in the way of Nicky’s access.

“Where would you like me to put the papers?”

 _Papers, what papers?_ Joe can’t be expected to think when Nicky propositioned him with _office sex_ for the first time. Nicky knows just how much he wants to be bent over and railed hard against this stupid fancy cherrywood desk that Quỳnh made him buy. He’s _dreamt_ of this moment - they’ve _talked_ about it, so why isn’t Nicky getting around to doing it? 

“Cabinet,” he croaks out. “Please, Nicky…”

Nicky hums noncommittally as he continues to collect everything on Joe’s desk. He even wipes it down with the cleaning spray and cloth that Joe keeps at hand for rare occasions. “Patience, Mr. al-Kaysani. We’ll get there soon enough.”

And then he wipes the desk down a second time with water. Joe absolutely does not care about the cleanliness of the surface; Nicky can spread him over anything and Joe would probably just thank him for it after. Joe fidgets, hands clenching uselessly at his side and cock twitching in their confines. Nicky hasn’t given him any instructions except to wait; he’s not good at this and Nicky knows it. 

Nicky puts all the supplies away and then turns back towards where Joe is standing by his desk - only to click his tongue at the pile of clothing beside Joe’s feet. He goes to hang those up as well. After an interminable amount of time (Nicky will later tell him it was less than three minutes with a fond look on his face), Nicky finally deigns to look over at him. Joe is pinned down by the weight of Nicky’s gaze as he prowls closer.

“Do you like your gift, Mr. al-Kaysani?” Nicky asks softly as he slides into the space between the desk and Joe. His hand reaches out to trace the lines of the harness, starting with the two horizontal strips of black leather on each thigh; they loop around the back to frame his ass but Nicky's hand doesn’t go all the way around. Instead, it starts traversing the vertical strip up on his thigh, cross the horizontal strip right underneath his navel - bypassing his cock altogether, and end the teasing exploration at the O-ring resting against the small of his back. Nicky's fingers catch on the lace strap of his panties underneath and pull up gently. Joe whines. He wants to press closer, wants to sit on Nicky’s lap, but Nicky hasn’t given him leave to move yet.

“How did it feel, Mr. al-Kaysani? Having the eye of everyone in that meeting on you, paying attention to your every word - none the wiser as to what you’re wearing underneath,” Nicky’s lips curl in a smirk. One broad hand comes up to grip Joe’s throat and using it as a handle, Nicky brings Joe’s face closer to his own. He whispers his next words directly into Joe’s ear. “Not a single one of them knowing what a perfect little whore their CEO is.”

Joe gives out the neediest whine at those words, knees buckling - Nicky doesn’t usually indulge him in humiliation, however light, preferring instead to praise him. “Nicolò, _please_.”

“I believe you wanted me to take you over your desk, isn’t that right?” There’s a wicked smirk around Nicky’s lips. “Put you in your place, Mr. al-Kaysani?”

Nicky smoothly extricates himself where he is leaning against the desk, hands not leaving Joe’s skin for a second as he moves around Joe to press up behind him again. Joe shudders at the feel of fabric along his back - Nicky hasn’t undressed at all, he’s in a suit while Joe is just in his harness and panties. Moaning, Joe pushes his ass back to rub against Nicky’s growing erection, lace biting into his skin with each movement.

Nicky clicks his tongue at him again, and presses down on his lower back. “It does seem you are sorely in need of some discipline, Mr. al-Kaysani. Hands on the table, please.”

Joe whimpers as he flattens his chest against the desk, letting it take his weight, hands gripping the outside edge of the desk. That may have been worded politely, but it was not a request by any means and Joe knows from experience that Nicky means to _wreck_ him.

Nicky steps to the side, taking away the delicious pressure against his ass, but leaving his hand curled around Joe’s throat. His other hand comes up to rub Joe’s ass cheeks, brisk circles meant to warm up the skin, and Joe shivers with anticipation.

“You should thank me for this lesson. Don’t forget your manners, Mr. al-Kaysani.”

With that warning, Nicky lands the first blow. Joe moans - it’s not at full strength, but it’s enough to push him into the desk and rub his silk-covered dick against the glossy wood. There’s an expectant pause.

“One, thank you, sir,” Joe counts, breathless.

“Very good, Mr. al-Kaysani,” Nicky says, a hint of approval in his voice. “Do try to keep up.”

Nicky spanks him, building up the strength and speed of his blows, barely waiting for Joe’s acknowledgement before continuing. Joe’s tongue trips over his counts and thanks as he matches the pace, voice getting louder with every strike. He tries his best to focus, but it’s hard when all he wants to do is arch his ass into the spanking. It’s _so_ good - the way those large hands cover every inch of his backside, the way the silk catches on his cockhead as he rubs against the unforgiving wood, the way Nicky’s other hand just _holds_ his neck - Joe knows it won’t take him long to come.

“Ten, thank you, sir!” Joe shouts when Nicky layers a second spank right on top of the previous one. 

“So loud, Mr. al-Kaysani,” Nicky says with a tsk. “We don’t want to disrupt your workers.”

“Sorry, sir,” Joe says, trying to sound contrite. 

It’s hard to be apologetic when Nicky is rubbing his ass through the lace of his panties. Nicky then reaches around to cup his erection, feeling its shape enclosed in damp silk, and Joe barely manages to hold in the noises he makes, clamping his mouth shut and burying his face into an outstretched arm.

“Look at how wet you are, Mr. al-Kaysani,” Nicky says. His hand drops even lower and fondles Joe’s balls. Joe can’t help it - he shouts; the sound audible even through his covered face.

Nicky clicks his tongue again in disappointment. “I did hope not to have to gag you.”

Nicky’s hand disappears from where it was resting on Joe’s throat, and Joe’s head whips up, turning around to look at Nicky in alarm. Nicky soothes Joe by resting that same hand on the back of his neck, running it down his spine, and then squeezing his still tender ass. Joe settles with a broken moan, laying his head on his arms to watch Nicky.

Nicky smirks at him, and then agile fingers are untying the knot on either side of his panties and pulling it out from underneath the harness. Joe abruptly understands why his panties had side-ties and he whimpers, dizzy with arousal. Nicky folds the panties smaller and then brings it to Joe’s lips as an offering, but he doesn’t order Joe to take it. Joe’s throat clicks as he opens his mouth; Nicky smiles at him, full of lust and hunger - and then stuffs the wad of soaked silk and lace into his mouth. 

The taste of salt hits Joe in a rush and he moans around his mouthful, dick spurting even more precome in response. Nicky moves fluidly, taking his place behind Joe again, and places one large hand on each of Joe’s ass cheeks, pulling them apart so he can nudge forward into the space between them and let Joe feel exactly how hard he is. Joe pants through his gag, and despite knowing it’s a tease, he rocks back against Nicky. 

Nicky’s response comes in the form of a swift blow against his ass. “Stay still, Mr. al-Kaysani. Lest you wish to start the lesson anew?”

Joe subsides immediately - Nicky has patience in spades and would not be adverse to repeating _any lesson_ over and over again until he feels Joe is appropriately repentant. Until Joe is a quivering mess of incoherent need underneath him.

“Very good, Mr. al-Kaysani.” Nicky leans forward, pressing a chaste kiss to Joe’s open mouth.

Joe whines through his gag, doing his best not to chase after Nicky’s mouth. It’s the first kiss Nicky has given him since they woke up this morning and Joe can’t even return it. Joe tries to implore Nicolò with his eyes, tries to convey as much of his desperation as possible.

Nicky’s hand comes up around Joe’s throat, squeezing just the once in warning. Joe shudders as Nicky leans in again, tracing his tongue over Joe’s open lips this time. Slowly, repetitively - until Joe’s lips tingle, until Joe’s already shallow breaths are small puffs of air through his nose, until Joe forgets everything but Nicky. Joe vibrates on the spot, torn between grinding into the desk and against Nicky’s dick, but ultimately doing neither.

“So you can behave, Mr. al-Kaysani. Let’s see if you can keep it up.” With that ominous taunt, Nicky’s hands come down on Joe’s hips and _pull_ so that his lower half no longer touches the desk. “If you find yourself unable to follow my instructions or need my attention at any point, tap the desk three times. If your hands leave the desk, I stop. Nod if you understand.”

Joe nods frantically, and Nicky sinks down onto his knees behind him. Keeping his eyes locked on Joe’s, Nicky places sweet kisses along the swell of his ass until he comes to the middle, where he licks a line up the crevice between Joe’s cheeks. Nicky noses back down between his inner thighs, nuzzling the leather straps that cup his ass, and Joe widens his stance immediately, opening his thighs and tilting his ass up.

One hand strokes down his hip, squeezes an ass cheek, and then pulls the leather to the side. Nicky _bites_ at the newly uncovered flesh and Joe jerks in surprise, precome oozing from his dick. Nicky lands another, _harder_ smack on his ass in warning and Joe whines, apologies trapped behind his gag.

“You were doing so well, Mr. al-Kaysani. I suppose another lesson in patience is in order.”

Joe braces himself for a second round of spanking, but instead, Nicky’s hands clamp down on his hips, holding him tightly in place. Joe squeals at the first touch of Nicky’s tongue against his hole, thankful the gag mutes most of the sound. 

Nicky starts off nice and slow - circling the tightly furled entrance with his tongue until Joe melts, previously tensed muscles liquefying at the sensation. Joe shoves his face into his arms again, hiding his already muffled noises, as Nicky persists with those broad, sweeping strokes. Joe can feel himself opening up easily under Nicky’s attention and he shakes with anticipation. Nicky’s tongue jabs in pointedly just once, as if to test how open Joe really is, and then retreats. He continues to lap shallowly, small flicks that don’t penetrate but keep teasing at the rim. 

All of a sudden, Joe knows where Nicky is going with this and he tenses all over again, turning to fix pleading eyes on Nicky. Nicky quirks an eyebrow at him in amusement, but maintains his slow, slow pace. Keeping his eyes directly on Joe, Nicky licks at his hole, without a care in the world - certainly without a care to the way that Joe is steadily getting more frantic as the pleasure builds. 

Joe writhes, seeking more friction - against his ass, against his cock, _anything_ \- he just needs a little more. If Nicky would spank him again - even once, Joe knows he can get off the way he so desperately wants to. But there is no give in Nicky’s iron grip, nor in his glittering eyes. There is _only_ enough pleasure to drive Joe wild and Nicky _knows_ this. Nicky knows how to keep him riding that razor sharp edge of orgasm for as long as he wants, not letting Joe come.

Joe is drooling through his gag by the time Nicky finally stops. The broken animal noises trapped in his throat get increasing louder because _Nicky has just pulled his mouth away and that’s not acceptable either_. Joe is an absolute mess, dripping precome everywhere - there’s a puddle on the desk right underneath his cockhead and the wiry hairs at the base of his cock are completely soaked through.

Nicky pats his flanks with a purposeful kind of disinterest, large hands rubbing him down with clinical efficiency. He is careful not to touch any of Joe’s more sensitive spots as he brings Joe back from the edge. Nicky waits until he has Joe’s full, hazy attention before he speaks.

“Where do you keep your lube, Mr. al-Kaysani?”

Joe shakes his head weakly, he wouldn’t keep lube at work and Nicky knows this. There _has_ to be a reason for this question because if Nicky has somehow forgotten and _won’t_ be fucking him right now, Joe thinks he might actually cry.

“A needy little _whore_ like yourself doesn’t have lube easily accessible, Mr. al-Kaysani? I’m surprised.” That term falling from Nicky’s lips again - sweet enough to be an endearment, and yet mocking all the same - hits Joe right in the balls. It sets his blood aflame and he whines so loud through his gag that he nearly misses Nicky’s next words: “Not to worry, I had foresight enough to bring my own.”

Nicky pulls a small tube out of his pocket, and opens it, squeezing some onto his hand. Drool trickles down the side of Joe’s mouth as he watches Nicky rub those thick fingers together. Until, finally, _finally_ Nicky touches one slick finger to his ass with **intent**. He moans as that finger breaches him, sinking all the way in with ease.

“Greedy little thing,” Nicky chides as he keeps fucking Joe with just one finger, purposefully missing his prostate on every glance. Joe quivers with the effort of restraining himself - it would be so easy to grind back and get himself off - he’s so close he can taste it. “You want to come, is that it?”

There’s suddenly two fingers stroking the edges of his prostate and Joe thrashes in earnest, muffled whining getting louder and higher in pitch. Joe’s legs tremble as he tries to stave off his orgasm, hands clawing at the edge of his desk - that wasn’t permission. 

“If you come, you’re going to have to clean up your own mess, Mr. al-Kaysani. We wouldn’t want your poor cleaning staff to come across your desk like this, would we?” Joe shakes his head frantically - before nodding equally as frantically. He tries to give his assent verbally for good measure, but all that comes out is garbled noise.

Luckily Nicky understands and is willing to take pity on him. One large hand comes up to take the panties out of Joe's mouth. Then, he crooks his fingers so they finally press against Joe's prostate. “Very well, pet, you may come.” 

Joe shouts his release, uncaring of who might hear him as he grinds back against those fingers, spurting messily onto his desk. Nicky’s free hand wraps around his dick and wrings the last of the aftershocks out of him, splattering the desk with even more fluid. Joe’s knees buckle and he collapses against the table, narrowly avoiding his own filth.

Nicky is gracious in giving him a moment to catch his breath, stroking along Joe’s sides and lower back with both hands. Coming down from his high in slow increments, Joe is made startlingly aware of how _empty_ he now is, ass wet and clenching around _nothing_. He looks hungrily at Nicky’s own erection, still trapped in his dress pants.

Nicky chuckles. “We’ll get there, Mr. al-Kaysani. Clean up your mess first.”

Joe twitches his head, looking for the cloth Nicky had used earlier, motor control still beyond him.

“You misunderstand me,” Nicky says, clamping a hand on the back of Joe’s neck to hold him still. “With your _tongue_ , Mr. al-Kaysani. **Clean up your mess**.”

Joe groans, face flushing hotly and whole body trembling as if Nicky took the violet wand to his balls again. Despite having just recently gotten off, his dick is making a valiant effort to rise again. Patting the back of his neck twice, the hand withdraws, but Joe doesn’t move - can’t just yet.

“Do not make me tell you a third time, Mr. al-Kaysani.”

“No, sir. Sorry, sir,” Joe chokes out.

Joe goes, sliding down to a kneeling position - his hands drag along the wood, never leaving the desk. Joe hasn’t forgotten his previous instructions and he can see the approving glint in Nicky’s eyes. Gripping the inside edge of the desk and looking straight at Nicky, Joe tilts his neck and laps at his cooling seed with small flicks of his tongue. There’s a tell-tale tic in Nicky’s jaw as he watches Joe with dark, lust-filled eyes and Joe realizes just how much power he really has for the next little while. 

Joe moans, making it showier as he continues to lick up his own come. He even hollows out his cheeks to swallow exaggeratedly after each mouthful. His eyes slit in pleasure the longer he goes and he looks up at Nicky from under hooded lashes. Joe cleans up the last of his spill with a long swipe of his tongue and swallows, resting back on his haunches.

It puts him at eye-level with Nicky’s crotch, where Joe can see a small damp spot that’s fast becoming visible. Joe swallows a smirk as he ducks his head and looks up at Nicky through hungry, mock-deferential eyes.

“I can take care of that for you, sir,” he offers, breathless. The hunger isn’t faked. All of a sudden, all he wants is Nicky in his mouth and down his throat, all he wants to taste is Nicky’s release instead of his own, all he wants is to bring Nicky pleasure.

“You may open my pants,” Nicky allows, stepping closer and erasing the space between them.

Licking his lips, Joe’s hands reach out and brush the front of Nicky’s pants. He sees the way Nicky’s eyes darken and how the wet spot spreads just a little further, but Nicky doesn’t say anything. Joe pops open the button and pulls the zipper down, only to reveal Nicky’s naked cock, wet at the tip; Nicky isn’t even wearing underwear. Joe shakes with the amount of effort it takes not to lean forward and just wrap his mouth around Nicky and swallow him down. He looks up at Nicky with needy, beseeching eyes, mouth wide open.

One large hand curls around Joe’s neck and Joe follows that ever-so-gentle _tug,_ rising until he’s standing on shaky legs again. Nicky kisses him, sweeping his tongue through Joe’s mouth as if he owns it - he does, _he does_ \- and Joe welcomes him in happily. It takes Joe entirely too long to realize that Nicky is chasing the taste of Joe’s release, licking it right out of his mouth. Nicky kisses without mercy, reducing Joe to a mess of incoherent need, hands dangling uselessly at his sides again.

The only warning that Joe has is the curve of Nicky’s lips against his - and then Nicky cups his balls, rolling and squeezing them with one warm hand. Joe whines, high-pitched and urgent, as he shoves into that grip. His cock bobs above Nicky’s hand, a pearly-white bead of precome already forming at the tip - it hurts and all Joe wants is _more_. 

“What a lovely show, Mr. al-Kaysani, thank you,” Nicky’s voice is hoarse when he pulls back and Joe is gratified that they are both equally out of breath.

Joe doesn’t know if his sigh is one of relief or loss when Nicky stops fondling his balls. The soft clatter of something being set on the desk behind him piques Joe’s curiosity. He only means to turn his head for a quick glance, but Nicky uses both of his hands to urge Joe to turn around fully. He goes, barely catching himself on the edge of the desk before he smashes his dick against unforgiving wood. He is at eye-level with the items Nicky had placed on the desk and his mouth dries.

“You have a choice, Mr. al-Kaysani. Would you prefer I use the condom, or would you prefer I plug you once I finish?” Nicky’s tone is soft, considerate - an utter, vicious _lie_ \- as he gestures to each item individually. “What kind of example would I be setting, after all, if I were to make a mess myself?”

Nicky has to know that there is no choice here, not for Joe.

“The plug, sir, please,” he rasps, hands already clawing at the wood.

Nicky doesn’t address his choice at all, instead reaching for Joe with a small disapproving tsk. Joe is unresisting as Nicky gently turns his face to the side and presses his cheek into the wood. Nicky then pushes his shoulder down, taking one hand, before repeating the process on the other side, crossing both of Joe’s hands at the small of his back, right under the o-ring of his harness. It leaves him that much more open and vulnerable.

“There we go,” Nicky purrs. “We wouldn’t want to damage the desk now, would we, Mr. al-Kaysani?”

The two wet fingers that circle his rim take him by surprise and Joe can only moan in response - he hadn’t even noticed Nicky coating his fingers with more lube. Those fingers sink all the way in without resistance and Nicky opens him with efficiency, wringing gasps and pleas from his throat. It takes less begging than Joe expects before Nicky inserts a third finger, stretching him without ever touching his prostate.

“Do you want more?” Nicky croons at him. There is the fleeting tease of a fourth finger at his rim and Joe moans, tilting his ass up. He _does_ ; he wants more. “I could put my whole fist in you and you’d still just beg for more, wouldn’t you?”

Joe’s throat clicks as his mouth dries out again; he tries to swallow, nodding frantically. Nicky has yet to fist him and Joe is gagging for it. The thought of those thick fingers working him even more open, the thought of the entire _width_ of one of those broad hands stretching his ass to its limits, the thought that Nicky might indulge him here and now at Joe’s place of _work_ , is enough to get him humping against Nicky in earnest. Nicky smacks him right on the meat of his ass, which only grinds his dick into the desk and Joe moans, forgetting for a second why he shouldn’t chase after his own pleasure. He is quickly reminded.

“Such a greedy little **whore** , Mr. al-Kaysani.” Nicky pairs the humiliating endearment with another two spanks in quick succession and Joe can only whimper, nodding in agreement. “Don’t think you’re getting out of a punishment by being agreeable now, Mr. al-Kaysani. We _will_ be addressing your lack of discipline later.”

Joe wails as Nicky pulls out his fingers, leaving him aching and empty. “ **NO**! Sir, _please_ , I’m sorry. **Please!** ”

Nicky shushes him as he lines himself up and enters Joe with a single thrust, spearing him to the core. He leans in so that his mouth is right beside Joe’s ear and whispers, vicious and soft: “can’t even stand the thought of being empty for a _second_ , can you? Don’t worry, little whore, I’ll fill you up the way you need.”

“Oh, thank you, sir,” Joe sobs, overwhelmed when Nicky finally bottoms out.

One hand snags into his curls, pulling his head back slowly, while the other hand grips his waist, pinning him to the desk. Joe focuses on keeping his arms in position as Nicky rearranges him to his liking: neck stretched, back arched, and ass snug against Nicky’s crotch. It’s not the most comfortable of positions, but Joe is absolutely certain that it showcases all his assets. Joe moans at being on display for Nicky.

Nicky thrusts into him, smooth and unhurried, no hint of urgency despite the way Joe is begging. He hasn’t even bothered to take off any clothes, only had _Joe_ open his pants enough to get his cock out. Joe can feel the entire length of Nicky against his back - the buttons on his dress shirt, the coarse fabric of the pants, the abrasion of the zipper. Joe can feel Nicky’s zipper making an impression on his ass with each thrust, metal teeth digging into both ass cheeks. With luck, they might even leave their imprint tomorrow and Joe will feel it when he sits - a physical proof of how good Nicky’s fucking him.

“You never did answer my first question, Mr. al-Kaysani,” Nicky muses. “Do you like your gift?”

Nicky is fully clothed while Joe is bent over his own desk, wearing nothing but a leather harness, and stuffed full of cock. The aesthetic alone is enough to get him off, but the sheer fact that Nicky is carrying out one of _Joe’s_ oldest fantasies, is almost too much to bear.

Any answer Joe means to give is strangled by his own throat as Nicky switches angles and begins to hit his prostate dead-on. Joe mewls, unable to do anything, unable to even grind back as his position gives him absolutely no leverage. Joe _loves_ it, being at Nicky’s mercy like this.

“It’s a shame I didn’t think to bring more supplies. I could have gotten a pair of snap hooks and our leather wrist cuffs, locking your arms in place from here.” Nicky tugs on the o-ring at his back with his thumb in demonstration. There’s a slight pause before Nicky promises directly into his ear, “don’t worry. Next time, I’ll give you what you need, Mr. al-Kaysani.”

“Nicky, hayati, please,” he begs. Joe can’t take Nicky’s filthy mouth when he’s this far gone and Nicky _knows_ this.

Nicky withdraws, slow and measured, and then snaps his hips forward, jabbing at Joe’s prostate. “I’m not sure you’re in the position to be making demands, Mr. al-Kaysani.”

Nicky scrapes his teeth down the column of Joe’s neck, and _bites_ at the juncture where it becomes shoulder. Joe shouts, clenching around Nicky; he can’t press back any closer no matter how hard he tries. Squirming uselessly as Nicky keeps fucking him, Joe is holding onto his orgasm by sheer force of will that’s quickly splintering under Nicky’s skilled touch.

“If you’re very good for me, Mr. al-Kaysani, you can come down my throat when I finish,” Nicky offers with another pointed jab at his prostate, eliciting a yelp. “Would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Joe chants, sobbing and cursing at himself even as he agrees. 

Nicky releases his hair and nudges him flat against the desk. The hand that was in his hair intertwines with Joe’s hands along his lower back and Joe clutches onto Nicky as if his life depends on it. The other hand strokes along his hip, pressing him into the desk. And then Nicky _gives it to him_ \- hard and fast and so damn good that Joe howls with it. Pleasure skitters along the edges of Joe’s senses but he holds off, not allowing himself to go hurtling off the precipice - not until Nicky says so. While his aim is still unerring, Nicky’s thrusting does get erratic as he chases his own orgasm and Joe knows it won’t be long in coming now. 

“Such a good little whore, Mr. al-Kaysani. So open and wet for me,” Nicky growls, voice an absolute wreck as he fucks in even harder, battering Joe’s prostate. “Shall I come in you and make you wetter still?”

“ _Please_.”

Nicky comes with a low groan that sounds punched out of him, grinding into Joe slow and messy. Joe whimpers, trying to keep from grinding his own erection into the table as he feels Nicky still pulsing inside him. Joe doesn’t expect the spank when Nicky’s hand comes down on his ass again and he tightens convulsively.

“Keep it in you, Mr. al-Kaysani.”

Joe whines, high and desperate - Nicky might as well have kept calling him a whore, the effect might not be as much of a turn-on. Nicky’s hand disentangles from Joe’s own to press on his lower back and keep him in place and his other hand disappears from Joe’s hip, leaving pockets of cold where it once rested. Nicky carefully pulls out and Joe clenches down as much as he is able to, on _nothing_ , to try and keep Nicky’s release inside him. But Joe still feels the slow trickle of Nicky’s release leaking down one thigh and he pouts.

Nicky fills him back up with the plug in one smooth motion. The feel of this plug is different, weighty, and Joe doesn’t recall seeing it in their toy chest before. Joe is distracted from further ruminations by the finger trailing up his thigh, gathering the mess there, and bringing it up to his lips as another offering. Joe wraps his lips around that finger, sucking it into his mouth as if starved and the taste of Nicolò floods his tongue. Joe moans, licking the finger until all that remains is the salt-sweat taste of skin.

Nicky takes his finger away and before Joe can even protest, Nicky has spun him around and dropped to his knees. _Oh_. Joe is urgently reminded of his own throbbing erection, but Nicky ignores it in favour of sucking his balls into his mouth. Joe whimpers, hands clutching at the edge of the desk. Joe’s balls draw up - he’s so, _so_ close when Nicky pulls back. 

Nicky pins Joe in place with one thick forearm across his stomach, pressing the leather band of the harness into his skin. Locking eyes with Joe, Nicky reaches his other hand for the flared base of the plug, _tilting_ it so the head rubs directly across Joe’s prostate, and then he wraps his lips around Joe’s erection. 

Joe comes on a broken sob the second he feels Nicky’s mouth on him, unable to do anything but give into the pleasure. Nicky only wraps his lips more firmly around his cockhead, tongue working the slit as he drinks him down, wringing every last drop out of him. Joe shudders through his orgasm, kept upright only by Nicky’s arm and the blistering force of Nicky’s gaze.

When Joe’s post-orgasm body is too heavy for him to hold up any longer, Nicky is already in the perfect position to catch him. Strong arms pull Joe into a loose embrace, cradling him.

“Shhh, you did well for me, tesoro,” Nicky murmurs, stroking him. “Let’s get you over to the couch, hm?”

Joe leans heavily on Nicky as they make their way over to the couch, the feeling of Nicky solid and familiar underneath him. Once at the couch, Nicky places Joe’s hands on the backrest - Joe looks at him in confusion. 

“One second, tesoro,” Nicky says, doing up his pants before crouching down to go through Joe’s gym bag.

He pulls out Joe’s sweats with triumph and then taps one of Joe’s legs - Joe lifts it obediently. Nicky helps get one pant leg up to his knee and then repeats the process on the other side. With both legs in, it takes little effort to pull the sweats up to Joe’s stomach and tie a loose knot there. Nicky gets a shirt over his head with minimal fuss as well and then smiles at him in approval. Joe nearly topples over in response.

Nicky is quick to catch him and maneuvers them so that Joe is lying on his side along the length of the couch, head resting in Nicky’s lap. Nicky cuddles him, petting him gently until Joe comes back to himself. Joe comes back slowly, coasting off of the endorphins that come with every good scene, and shakes off his lethargy.

“Hi,” Joe says, rubbing his face into Nicky’s belly.

Nicky huffs a laugh and then looks down at him, smiling. Joe smiles back up at him like an idiot.

“Feeling better, my love?” Nicky asks and Joe nods. “That’s good, lean forward for me.”

Joe lifts his head up the bare minimum and sees his water bottle in Nicky’s hands; he leans forward only far enough to get the spout in his mouth and suck. Nicky shakes his head even as he brings his other hand forward to support Joe’s neck until he finishes.

“Let’s get you home, hm?”

Joe looks blearily at the clock - it is close to 4:00pm, but there are likely still some workers hanging around. Joe wouldn’t mind exiting with Nicky - he’s absolutely certain of the soundproofing of his office, but he would need to change back into his suit. He looks at his closet with great vexation, pouting.

Nicky chuckles, soft and warm. “You gave everyone the afternoon off, remember? Told them they were free to leave as soon as the investors were gone.”

Distantly, Joe does remember that order - and now that he thinks about it, there had been no one in sight when he walked over to his office. If he knows his own staff, even the ones that were part of the presentation will have likely packed up by now and gone home, including Quỳnh.

“You really did plan for everything, didn’t you?” Joe tilts his head up and Nicky rewards him with a kiss. 

“Come on, tesoro. Let’s go home.” 

Nicky gets up and then reaches a hand out for Joe, helping him to his feet. With the first step he takes, Joe is reminded of the plug inside him, and he gasps as it shifts. Joe looks at Nicky and Nicky’s eyes are molten with renewed desire. Nicky pats him gently on the ass, right over the plug, and nudging it true.

“Keep it in you, Mr. al-Kaysani. You still owe me a penalty, after all.” 

Joe can only whimper in response.

\--

(When they get home, Joe learns that it _is_ a new plug and it also has a remote-controlled vibrating function that Nicky turns on as soon as he closes the door behind them, sending Joe crashing to the ground. “Let’s get started, Mr. al-Kaysani.”) 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love <3  
> Please let me know if I'm missing any tags or warnings. Thanks for reading~
> 
> (Also taking new applications and offering more smut in exchange, so here Dutchies, Dutchies, Dutchies...)


End file.
